2. Suddenly he turned partly round, as if half satisfied with me, and gave two or three rapid chirps; but instead of gratifying, they tended only to increase my curiosity. He did not open his mouth like other singers; and a though he made some fluttering, I could perceive no instrument of music in his possession.

3. I resolved, therefore, to lie still, and wait further opportunities. Nor did I have to wait long. Having now become a little familiar with me, and his first flush of bashfulness having passed over, he began, in perfect self-composure, one of the most astonishing performances I ever saw. Jubal and all his sons were nothing to this one cricket!

4. I saw, in a minute, that all that had ever been said of crickets' singing, was the result of mere ignorance. Such persons had never seen a cricket making music. It was no vocal performance, but purely instrumental.

5. Those who have examined crickets, are aware that they have two sets of wings. The outer ones are black and thick, covering the whole back, while the inner ones resemble a fine and delicately-formed gauze. They are very slender in appearance, but their texture is exceedingly strong.

6. They serve as a kind of violin, on which Master Cricket plays. Nor is his bow less ingenious than his fiddle. You have, undoubtedly, observed the two long, sharply-angled hind legs, so usefu' to our amateur musician for hopping.

7. A single spring upon them will send hi n heels over head, three or four feet; that is, if he be not too fat. Well, the lower part of these, I mean below the gambrel or knee, is very curiously made. It is what is called serrated behind; that is, it is filled. with a kind of teeth, like a saw.

8. You may see them with the naked eye, and they are very perceptible to the finger. This is

Master Cricket's fiddlestick. Thus you perceive he is doubly armed - two wings and two legs, or, speaking professionally, two fiddles and two fiddle

bows.

9. And now for the music. First, he raises and partly spreads his dark, outer wings, so as to admit. the extension of the inner ones. These are then spread laterally and backwards, when, with the velocity of lightning, our amateur draws his hind legs, or his fiddle bows, across these wings, touching their surface with the little saw teeth before named. And thus he makes his music!

10. To me, boy as I was, it was a great wonder. Ole Bull could not have pleased me half so well. I lay there and watched him a long while, and was more and more pleased with the performance.

11. At last, when my curiosity was gratified, and I had grown tired of lying on the ground, I picked up my old cap, and thanking Master Cricket for the entertainment he had afforded me, bade him “good day," and returned to tell my mother and all my playmates that crickets do not sing, and to describe their method of making music.

We

12. This is an instance a trifling one it may seem to some of the fruits of observation. are surrounded in the world by objects, animate and inanimate, which are very worthy of our attention and study.

13. If children will learn to observe, they will never be at a loss for pleasant and profitable employment. Every day will add something to their stock of knowledge. Another remark: What we see and examine ourselves, is generally much better understood, than it can be from any mere description.

14. The child who is anxious to see every thing himself, and who will submit to some little inconveniences, in order to gratify a laudable curiosity,

will know more, and know it better, than the best scholar who relies for every thing on books.

WHITTLINGA YANKEE PORTRAIT.

1. THE Yankee boy, before he's sent to school,
Well knows the mysteries of that magic tool,
The pocket knife. To that his wistful eye
Turns, while he hears his mother's lullaby';
His hoarded cents he gladly gives to get it,
Then leaves no stone unturned till he can whet it,
And in the education of the lad,

No little part that implement hath had.

His pocket knife, to the young whittler, brings A growing knowledge of material things.

2. Projectiles, music, and the sculptor's art,
His chestnut whistle and his shingle dart,.
His elder popgun with its hickory rod,
Its sharp explosion and rebounding wad,
His corn-stalk fiddle, and the deeper tone
That murmurs from his pumpkin-stalk trombone,
Conspire to teach the boy. To these succeed
His bow, his arrow of a feathered reed,
His windmill, raised the passing breeze to win,
His water wheel, that turns upon a pin;
Or, if his father lives upon the shore,
You'll see his ship, "beam ends upon
the floor,"
Full rigged, with raking masts, and timbers

stanch,

And waiting, near the wash tub, for a launch.

3. Thus, by his genius and his jack knife driven, Ere long he'll solve you any problem given;

Make any gimcrack musical or mute,
A plough, a couch, an organ, or a flute;
Make you a locomotive or a clock,
Cut a canal, or build a floating dock,
Or lead forth beauty from a marble block –
Make any thing, in short, for sea or shore,
From a child's rattle to a seventy-four.

Make it, said I? Ay, when he undertakes it, He'll make the thing and the machine that makes it.

4. And when the thing is made, whether it be
To move on earth, in air, or on the sea;
Whether on water, o'er the waves to glide,
Or, upon land to roll, revolve, or slide;
Whether to whirl or jar, to strike or ring,
Whether it be a piston or a spring,

Wheel, pulley, tube sonorous, wood, or brass,
The thing designed shall surely come to pass.

THE WORTH OF A THOUGHT.

1. I HAVE Something to tell you, before I commence this recitation. I think it best to say it now, because I have observed on some of your faces an expression, that I have learned to consider the indication of a neglected lesson.

2. One of your number obtained possession, last evening, of something new-so entirely new, that it had never been an object of her ambition or desire. Besides this, she would not be willing to part with it for any thing you could offer her.

3. I have no objection that you should puzzle yourselves a little, as to what this acquisition could

have been. Some of you may already have imagined it to be some rich article of dress. Others may conjecture it to be something ornamental — a bracelet a gold chain-a diamond ring. But it is none of these. It is no gewgaw no baubleno trifle. I shall probably disappoint you all, when I say it was

- a

THOUGHT.

4. Nay, now, no scorn no expression of surprise! The power and worth of a single thought may be invaluable. Reserve your decision until I inform you, what this thought was.

5. Our friend is naturally industrious, and she has been taught the value of time; and she considers riches, luxuries, and worldly comforts the great objects of attention, and the rewards promised to active labor.

6. She could work very assiduously to finish a drawing, or to copy a pattern for an ottoman cover; for when they were done, they would be tangible objects of value. They would adorn her apartment at home; she could see them, and show them to her friends.

7. But she cannot study a lesson. She has no motive. There is no reward in the end; and consequently there is nothing to excite or to interest her. Now, this feeling is not peculiar to her. It is not an uncommon one.

8. There are hundreds of families where you will see neatness, order, and vast accumulations of wealth, with whom, if education is attended to at all, it is for the sake of being fashionable. A cultivated mind is considered of little value, if it cannot be used to obtain wealth.

9. It was under the influence of the feeling, that labor was profitable, and that study had no reward, that our friend threw down her book which contained her lesson, and growing restless soon after for the want of something to do, took up an old